Tiva oneshots
by dreamingofsunshine
Summary: Well the title explains it really - these are some Tiva one-shots.
1. Acting

For her it was just to prove, to herself and to the world, that she was alive and human enough to feel.

For him it was to replace _her_, Jeanne, to pretend that she had not left because of him, because of what he was and what she had been to him.

For both of them it was to escape, to pretend they were not who they were.

Every day, at the end of the day, they would meet up outside the main building, and then the charade would begin. He always went first.

"So, my dear, who do you want me to be tonight?" And each night his eyes would die just a bit more as he stared into hers, but he hid it, pretended everything was good, perfect, even though it was not.

"Tonight." She would pout up at him. "Tonight I should like you to be ..." and it would be somebody, anybody, a real person, or a character from a book, or a film. Sometimes she had to explain the character to him. She liked it best when that happened, because then he was more _him_. "Who do you want _me_ to be." She would ask. Her eyes flashing.

"Tonight," he would look deep into her deep brown eyes, almost, but not quite to the bottom. "I would like you to be ..." sometimes it was a random woman from a film or television series, sometimes it was the girl that went with who he was playing, that night. Often, especially in the beginning, he would breathe 'Jeanne' and her heart would break just a little bit more. But she would smile on, pretend this was nothing to her, just as he pretended it meant nothing to him.

That night his answer was just two syllables, and with them he froze her heart, stopped it, and then set it off again on another rhythm, his rhythm, a happier rhythm. With those two syllables he set both of them free, brought them to life. Those two syllables were the bravest thing he ever did.

"Tonight." He said, his eyes so uncertain, so shy. "Tonight, please just be Ziva, my Ziva."


	2. Trapped

I am trapped. Trapped inside a life I do not want any more. Trapped inside a body that has been moulded and shaped to that life. So I do not want that any more either.

I look at the people around me, living here, growing up in a place so different. I see how they are so depressed, and yet that makes me realise how lucky they are, all that they have to bring them down are small things. They do not have to cope with death daily. They have not had their family and friends killed mercilessly. They have not been used by their remaining family. They have not been mutilated and tortured, by their own side and by the enemy. They do not _have_ an enemy. They have not killed.

They do not know that feeling when you pull the trigger on a gun that is an extension of your hand, cleaned meticulously by that hand. They do not know how the adrenaline courses through your veins, how you watch the blood dripping from the hole in their head, their chest, their heart. How you smile, because you have completed a job. You are alive. You have succeeded. Because it feels good. You feel so _powerful_. They do not know how the ice follows the rush, leaving you tired and unfeeling, a defence mechanism, trying to block out the guilt. That guilt has followed me every day of my life. I would do anything to get rid of it. To be rid of those names and faces and all that red.

So yes I envy those people on the street. I envy their ease around new people, how trusting they are. How to them a door opening is just another noise. How to them the world is safe and trustworthy and will not harm them.

I envy them their naivety. Their innocence. Their childhood.

I want to join them, but my body and soul is too drenched in _my_ life of bloodshed and horror. I cannot leave that behind, and yet I have moved on too far to go back to it. I am trapped between the world I belong, belonged, in, and the one I want to be a part of. The one I can never truly join.

I am a caged lion, that wants to escape its cage and join the kittens purring by the fire with their warm milk.

I cannot remember what it feels like to be happy, to purr. All there is is this cage, and the need to kill, and the want to stop killing, to quench that need forever.

I am trapped. Find the key to this cage and let me out.

Set me free.

Please.


	3. Opposites always attract

If I could then I would love you. But my heart will not let me. My heart no longer exists.

All that keeps me going is a black hole where my heart should be. And to fill that hole I have always followed orders. Always. No matter how much I did not want to.

Maybe that was why I killed so many. Because I was trying to fill up that hole. Because I was jealous that they had that ability to love and I did not.

Maybe that was why I was so attracted to you. Because your heart was so large that I thought that I could borrow some of it, and still leave you with so much.

Maybe I just wanted you for how you were so big in personality. How you did not try to hide. How opposite we were.

Opposites always attract.


	4. I love you

_"I love you."_ Such simple words, so easy to say. So easy to lie. I had done it so many times in my line of business, it is amazing how much people will tell you if you pretend that they are special, that they mean something to you. Especially if _you_ is glamorous and untouchable, someone that one might want to mean something to, because they seem so unfeeling.

That is ironic is it not? One of the reasons they fell so quickly was because they thought that they might have cracked my shell, that they might have made me _feel_. What they were too obtuse to realise was that they just added more to it, made it harder, made me feel less. It was self- preservation in its most extreme form. If I let myself feel I would wallow in a sadness and guilt so deep that it would undoubtedly kill me.

And so they died, or I broke their heart when I moved on. Occasionally on those occasions when I left my 'partners' alive I would remember to say goodbye, but most of the time I said goodbye with a gun, so it never meant quite the same to me. Also at those goodbyes I had to spin another lie, tell another tale that might get found out, be implausible. The alternative was so much cleaner – just disappear, like I was so good at doing.

Looking back it seems strange to me that I stayed with Mossad as long as I did. It was just another ill-fated love affair in which one had to follow orders blindly. They say love is blind, I have only fallen in love once, so I could not truthfully say.

He is there, and I love him, I do. I just cannot say it. It would sound fake, a lie to my own ears and therefore probably his as well. He is standing above me, waiting for my reply, but I cannot say it, it would make it untrue, so I keep my silence and hope he understands. He understands so much and yet I fear that he can never understand this, he is American, and, patronising though it sounds, he has not been through what I have been through.

Suddenly, looking into his eyes, I see that maybe he _does_ understand, looking into those beautiful brown eyes, the oasis of the desert that is my soul, I remembered that he must have said those same words so many times to get the one night stands he used to boast about so much. I opened my mouth, but I could not, there was too much between them and what I felt.

Instead I lent forwards into him, into a kiss that melted more of my frozen wasteland inside. I loved him for that.

As we pulled away and I opened my eyes I wondered. Was this love, or did I just need to pretend that I could feel? Did I just need to feel like he was helping me feel? At that another fragment of my depleted heart broke away, and I cried for him and for me.


	5. Boy loves girl

**AN: This is really short and I have not got a clue what to think about it, however please tell me what you think, and obviously any constructive criticism would be appreciated.**

Boy loves girl.

Girl loves boy.

Simple.

Boy is immature and so, so afraid of commitment.

Girl is a trained assassin afraid of feeling anything.

Not so simple.

And so they live and let live and never, ever tell the other, themselves or anybody else. Life goes on and their hearts break and melt and fall to pieces over each other, and still nobody knows.

One day they will die, and still nothing will have changed, and maybe it will be a relief because then the lying will be over.


	6. Hate me

Be with me, be from me, be of me. Be the end of me. But always, always hate me.

Hello, we can be together, by only if you hate me and loathe me and never, ever love me. For I can never love you back. I may want to, but I cannot, ever.

_

I love you, I love you, I LOVE YOU.

Scream it at the top of your voice.

Scream it until your voice is rough and raw. Scream until you can no longer scream at all. Scream until no-one can hear you.

Scream it as much as you want. I will never love you for it, for I do not deserve your love, I deserve nothing.

As you scream I will scream too. And then as you hesitate I will jump off this bridge and get lost in the water below.

You will not be able to stop me, so I will die cocooned in water, unfeeling as ever, and my ears will be full of your screaming, and I will know that someone loves me.

If I do that, do not follow. For death is all that I deserve. Death is more than I deserve.

I do not fear death, so you should. Run from death, run from me.

Keep on running, and do not look back as the water carries me away to the sea, holds me as no-one has ever managed to.

Hate me for this, hate me for being me.

**AN: In case any of you have noticed, I did put some of these stories up before, I just got tired of permanently posting Tiva one-shots, so I moved all of them to here.**

**Also I know that most of these do not make sense, I apologise, they are not really meant to. **

**And just to clarify, I do like Ziva, and I do not really think that she would do any of this, but think of it as a rather AU, really angsty and overly emo version of Ziva, possibly with a lot of teenage hormones thrown in there.**


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